


Young

by Fandomtastic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tattoo Artist Derek, Tattooed Stiles, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandomtastic/pseuds/Fandomtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finally turns 18. He wants to celebrate with a tattoo. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Derek has the only tattoo shop around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young

**Author's Note:**

> Second work ever. Tattoos are just... I don't know. I have such a passion for them and I feel there isn't enough works. I'm not totally satisfied with this and will probably do more Tattoo works. 
> 
>  
> 
> I might even add a sequal to this if it's requested enough.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbetaed. As usual. I neeeed a beta.

After the Hale fire, Derek and Laura moved to New York. It left pace between them and their past life. Space that they needed. They had no problem moving since they already came from old money. But with the new inheritance, they would never have to do a thing in their life.

But that didn't seem right. 

So even though they were still kids, they found something to do with themselves. Laura worked as a barista. Derek... Took a different turn. He let himself go in art. Body art. He dipped into the savings and became, well, a tattoo artist. Well known at that. 

So it was only logical that after things finally settled down in Beacon Hills, that he would return to an old hobby. More than a hobby really. At first it was just him. He opened it and ran it. Not many people came in at the beginning anyways. Until one day.

Erica had known from the beginning. But he found himself watching when one day she sashayed in, plopped down behind the counter, picked up the phone, and set him up for an appointment the next day at 3. 

Next was Isaac. Usually he'd be spending his time with Scott but apparently not today. He had walked into the shop, Triskele, and handed Derek a little notebook. When he looked inside, he was awed himself. He had no idea that Isaac drew. He had figured that with all the scarves, it'd be at least poetry. But no. Inside was a splash of colors. 

Isaac then, obviously, became their color expert. His work ranged from classic sailor pieces to minimalist, abstract to watercolor and everything in between. A master of them all. From vibrant animals to simple, elegant landscapes. Derek decides then that not only will Isaac work here, but that his next tattoo would be by him. In color.

 

While Isaac was their color expert, Derek did simple black and grey mainly. The classic stuff. Not every piece of art needed color. His spoke volumes as well. Enough about that. The final person to walk into the shop would have been Boyd. He wasn't an artist. And he wasn't friendly enough to be a receptionist. But he was silent and scary. He was basically a body guard who helped steralize equitment. 

 

And that was Triskele. And they became quite a hit. But not so much so that he'd have ever expected.... Stiles to walk in. 

 

~~~~

 

Stiles had turned eighteen. And he'd been thinking about this for a while. Ever since Derek decided to open up his own place, really. It set the idea into motion. But he didn't want to be cliché and get something he'd regret. Or something as lame as two lines around his arm. Drawing in hand, he walked in. 

"Stiles?" Erica greeted, momentarily confused before flashing her usual wolfish grin. "What brings you by?" 

Stiles already felt a little nervous, despite seeing her almost daily. "I wanted to get a consultation for a tattoo?” He hopes framing it as a question will prevent further mockery. Instead her eyes just widen in shock before she nods and seemily accept the idea of Stiles getting inked up.

“Okay.... Well, what are you thinking about? Color wise."

“Black probably." He pulls the paper from his pocket, handing it over. He’s suddenly very self-conscious of his amateur drawing, especially when one her eyebrows goes up a bit and her smile turns into a little smirk. “I’m not the best artist…” Stiles tries, trailing off helplessly.

“No worries. Our artists can definitely work with this. You’ll probably want Derek. He's the black and grey expert." She smirks once more, probably already sensing his diacomfort at the idea. But he already knew it was just the pack that worked here.

"Uh, yeah. Alright."

“And lucky for you, he's here today. He's busy right now but if you'll wait a bit." She didn't even phrase it as a question, already knowing he would.

“Yeah. Thanks,” he says, turning towards the seats along the wall. Erica looked slightly uneasy, like she was about to say but thought better of it, grabbing his drawing and disappearing to the back.

Stiles settles in a chair, about to get his phone out before noticing books on a table beside him. Flipping through the portfolios seemed appropriate considering. There were two of them, each a couple inches think. 

He automatically goes for Derek's, already being interested and having wanted to see his work but it seemes like a good thing to do since Erica said he was most likely to do it. Erica was right, black is his thing. There is a few that have color but the passion is clearly black and grey. The detail and shading of each piece is perfect, as is the placement of each tattoo, the lines and curves of the art flowing with the body of each person. There are big block letters of names, vines trailing up a small ankle, flowers delicately placed on a collar bone, and even wolves. With each different page he sees, he gets more and more excited to have Derek tattoo him. Stiles knew he'd want someone he trusted to do it because c'mon, needles, but he's certain this work is better than what he'd find anywhere else. 

 

It takes a minute. But suddenly the back doors are being thrown open and an angry looking Derek is stepping in front of Stiles, Erica cowering sheepishly behind. 

"What's this." Derek demands, thrusting his drawing back at him.

"Uh... A wolf?" He tried but by Derek's unimpressed glare he figured that answer is wrong. "It's the tattoo I want. I was going to have you look at it."

"No."

"What?!"

A sigh. "Stiles... You don't need a tattoo. You're young. And it's expensive."

Really? Stiles was eighteen now. He didn't even need a parent present!

"Seriously, Derek? I'm able to get this. And if not by you, by someone else."

Please say you'll do it, please! Not that Stiles would actually beg. His work just... It really was good. Totally unbaised and everything. Really it was unfair that Derek could look like that and have talent like that. Give mere mortal men a chance! 

A pause. "Come on."

Stiles wasted no time following Derek to the back and sitting down in the chair while Derek seemed to be getting the things ready beside him. 

"You drew this, right?" Derek asked suddenly, holding the paper still. Stiles twisted uncomfortably. He’s such a loser, showing his crappy drawing to a real artist, albiet Derek. 

"I know it’s not the best but it’s... Kinda a specific wolf, so I want to make sure it’s just right.” He wonders if that makes him sound odd. Wolves have pretty similar features after all but considering when human at least, they look different. 

He moves his eyes away from the picture to study his face, holding his gaze for a second too long before responding. “Of course."

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a grin.

“If you don’t mind,” He begins cautiously, “I’d like to just smooth out the lines, add a little more depth, maybe change the perspective, stuff like that. It’ll be this just... Yeah."

Stiles paused for a second. It'd still be the same. Just with a real artists touch. He knew Derek would keep it the same. “Sounds great. Thanks.”

"Alright. Where do you want him?"

Stiles went ahead and started pulling the sleeve of his shirt up, to his elbow. While Stiles still wore flannel, just not all the time, Derek was still rocking the Henley's. 

"Right here. On my wrist. Facing me. Not the people looking at it." Because that wolf was his. Not for the people who saw it. And he wanted to be able to look down at it and see it looking back at him.

"Usually you get an appointment and come back another day. I'm going to do that. So you can think this over. Don't just jump in because it's cool and you think you want it." A pause. And a sigh. "Come back tomorrow. Noon."

Stiles wanted to argue but that would only further show that he was still a child. So he just nodded. 

"Tomorrow."

~~~~~~

 

So sue him if he was a little eager and showed up about thirty minutes early. He was still waiting for the correct time. Patiently. When it did come, Derek beckoned him to the back. And showed him the drawing that Stiles originally done. Only now... Derek had adjusted the angle slightly to make it seem like it really was facing you as well as adding more depth to the body, and he somehow managed to capture his coiling strength and power, even though Stiles’ drawing had in no way indicated that. His had just looked meak and weak. Apparently Derek wanted to convey that wasn't a wolf. It's more than he ever wanted. 

“It’s perfect,” he says, voice quiet. Derek doesn't give a reply but he doesn't make fun of him for getting emotional over a drawing either. 

Derek then has him sit in one of the padded chairs,  and rest his arm on the handle. He then places the stencil on his wrist. The curve of the lines he's drawn are in perfect harmony with the curve of his palm. The pause I'm activity makes him look up to see Derek waiting for the okay. So Stiles gives a big, nervous, grin and nods.

The pain is barley noticible. Just a dull thump he wouldn't notice without the small buzz of the needle. He's not sure if it's the placement of the tattoo or what but he definitely understands why some people say tattoos are addictive. The chance to openly watch Derek is one no one should pass up on. He looks so concentrated, brows furrowed and gaze narrowed. Neither of them really talk through it. Derek being because he's working and Stiles for once is enjoying the quiet. Because it also comes with ogling. Shh. 

After what seems like forever but not nearly long enough, Derek pulls off the gloves as tosses them into the hazmat container. It's a good thing Stiles wasn't standing when he finally looka at it because his knees buckle at the beauty of the tattoo. It’s more than what he wanted. Derek did it so well it almost looked human. In the silence of his awe, Derek pulls out his phone and begins to snap a few pictures. Maybe for the portfolio.

"Alright. Rules. Unscented, plain lotion only. Don't stay in the shower too long. Don't pick at it-"

But Stiles stopped listening after that because while Derek has began placing the bandages on, his hand that was trapping just above the tattoo... The thumb was rubbing soothing circles into his skin. The touch was so hot, warm, that Stiles couldn't help but get distracted and look down at it. That seemed to snap Derek out of his trance though because he quickly snatched his hand back. And then continued with the rules. Only Stiles was no longer intwrsted in that and instead found his lips turning up into a grin. 

"Derek?"

"What Stiles."

Too cool for question marks apparently. And he sounded annoyed at being interuppted. But when Stiles looked up and noticed the tips of his ears were pink, his grin only grew. 

"Shut up."

And then Stiles was stepping forward into his personal space, hand cupping the back of his neck, bringing his face down just a bit. Thankfully Stiles was about the same height now. So HW barley had to tilt his own head up before their lips met. A tentative brush, not pushing. Just lingering. Giving Derek the chance to change his mind. Just when he was about to pull back from lack of response, there was a broken noise coming from Derek and suddenly Stiles was being pushed back against a wall, hands on eieither side of his face, lips pushing against his. Stiles had no problem responding. Derek’s lips are even softer than he imagined. But not his bears which scrapes against his skin in the very best way. Derek then moves one hand to wrap around his waist and pull him closer, flushing their bodies together. Stiles takes the next step of deepening the kiss, tongue gently pressing against the bow of his lips, asking. Derek doesn't hesitate this time and opens his mouth for him.

The burst of arousal that sparks through him when his tongue meets Derek’s makes him completely lose track of everything around him. Those perfect, velvet lips pulling and pushing against his own. Just when he's sure he can't stand anymore, Derek wraps the other giant arm aound him, pulling him even closer into his rock-hard body and holding him up.

It goes on forever but it still feels too soon when Derek pulls away, those adorable bunny teeth nipping Stiles’ lower lip as he does. “Wow,” Stiles whispers, trembling, resting his forehead on Derek's shoulder.

“I know." Derek whispers back, trembling too, only Derek buries his face in his neck, hot breath tickling against his skin as he feels him take a deep breath in.


End file.
